


All I Need

by VioletHaze



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Cas Tropefest 5k Mid-Winter Challenge, M/M, alcohol use, sex to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHaze/pseuds/VioletHaze
Summary: The whiskey isn’t good, but it’s cheap. Dean switched over to the hard stuff after nursing his first two beers, trying not to keep one eye on the door as the hours tick past. He has no business feeling stood up. Any disappointment is on him and him alone. What he has with Cas isn’t exclusive—hell, it isn’t even official— but somehow over the past month or so it has at least become consistent. There’s no planning, no checking to ensure the other’s availability. Even if Dean wanted to (which he totally doesn’t) they’ve never even exchanged numbers. Despite that—or maybe precisely because of it—each Friday night for the last five weeks they’ve both ended up at this bar.(aka four times Dean and Cas hooked up, one time they were both dumb, and one time they figured it out)





	All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> So happy to work with the delightful and talented [BusySquirrel](https://bs-acorns.tumblr.com/) again and even happier to call her my friend! Find her art masterpost [here](https://bs-acorns.tumblr.com/post/172634531593/art-masterpost-for-all-i-need).
> 
> Big thanks to [Whichstiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel) and [ZaphodsGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaphodsgirl/pseuds/zaphodsgirl) for their ever-helpful beta work. As always, thank you to Jojo and Muse for another great challenge.

The whiskey isn’t good, but it’s cheap. Dean switched over to the hard stuff after nursing his first two beers, trying not to keep one eye on the door as the hours tick past. He has no business feeling stood up. Any disappointment is on him and him alone. What he has with Cas isn’t exclusive—hell, it isn’t even official— but somehow over the past month or so it has at least become _consistent_. There’s no planning, no checking to ensure the other’s availability. Even if Dean wanted to (which he totally doesn’t) they’ve never even exchanged numbers. Despite that—or maybe precisely because of it—each Friday night for the last five weeks they’ve both ended up at this bar.

 _That’s all it is_ , Dean reminds himself as he winces around the last swallow in his glass. Hooking up. Convenience. No strings attached.

If Dean decided to plant his ass on this barstool to make himself available tonight, well, nobody asked him to. _Expectations are just planned resentments_ he remembers his father saying, something John had picked up at an AA meeting. Dean hadn’t quite understood what that meant, but he’d tucked the words away, clinging to them as he’d clung to the fact that his dad had sobered up long enough that time to spout some of the lingo.

It’s not lost on Dean that this memory crosses his mind at the very moment he signals the bartender for another round. But maybe it’s fitting after all, since this thing with Cas was apparently as short-lived as his dad’s flirtation with sobriety.

The bartender, who’s been there each Friday as well, smiles at him. She’s pretty, efficient, and always countering Dean’s flirting with some sass of her own. Come to think of it, why’s he looking any further than the other side of the bar? Resting his chin on his hand he smiles at her. “How you doin’?”

She smoothly refills his glass. “Better than you, apparently.”

“I’m doing just fine, sweetheart.” He only sloshes a little out of the shot glass when he raises it.

She smiles but Dean can see the indulgence there. “You won’t be tomorrow.” Unasked, she pours him a glass of water, leaning in closer to deliver it. “Sorry,” she says softly. “You guys seemed so good together.”

Dean ignores the twist in his gut and snorts out a bitter half-laugh. “It wasn’t like that.”

With a sympathetic look, she pats his arm before turning back to her work.

~Five Weeks Earlier~

In the time it took for Dean to change out of his coveralls and scrub the grease from his hands, he had two missed calls from his brother.

“You’d better not be bailing on me,” he said when the phone rang a third time. Even though they both lived in Lawrence, Sam’s junior year of college kept him so busy that Dean felt like he rarely saw him.

“Of course not, but I have to meet with my study group so we need to push back the time a little. Or you could come to campus and hang out while I do that and we could go get something to eat from there.”

Dean held the phone away from his ear and frowned at it. “There is literally nothing I would rather do less.”

Sam huffed out a breath. “Ok, but I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“Oh no! I might be stuck at the bar waiting for you! Whatever will I do?”

“Probably be in great shape to embarrass me,” Sam muttered.

“Don’t deprive me of my main joy in life, Sammy.”

*

Halfway through his second beer Dean felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Sam smiling brightly, a small cluster of other guys standing behind him. “Hey! The rest of the gang decided to come, too. Hope you don’t mind.”

Stifling a sigh and pushing down the sinking disappointment at this having become a group outing, he stood for introductions. Not bothering to remember any of their names, Dean worked to keep his face pleasant as he shook each of their hands. Before long, they were caught up in a conversation of their own about classes and professors and whatever else, leaving Dean hovering on the edge of the group. When they started laughing loudly at some inside joke, he turned away to order another beer.

He’d chosen this place because it was just far enough from campus to avoid being overrun with students, but apparently that didn’t hold true tonight. Sam’s group continued to grow and, when one of them moved into the spot Dean had been occupying, Sam twisted around to look for his brother. Finding him back at the bar, Sam took a step in his direction, conflict clearly written on his furrowed brow. When Dean waved him off, Sam flashed a dimple-filled smile and turned back to his friends.

Leaning against the bar, Dean sipped at his beer, watching idly as the guy Dean mentally referred to as Backwards Baseball Cap (not to be confused with Baggy Basketball Shorts) pulled over someone new. This guy looked a little older, or maybe it was just the way he was dressed in an actual suit, complete with tie.

It was hard to tell over the thumping music and loud voices, but from the general commotion Dean gathered that this was one of their TAs. He greeted them happily and, after speaking to Sam for a few moments, Sam spun to point to Dean. Knowing his role, Dean nodded and smiled in their direction. The TA moved away again and Dean resumed his people-watching. He was reminding himself to give Sam a hard time about the blonde he kept talking to when he realized someone had addressed him.

“Dean, right? You’re Sam’s brother?” The TA held out his hand. He was a good-looking guy and Dean was bored out of his mind, so maybe that’s why he shot his mouth off.

“I am. He’s the smart one but, as you can see, I’m the good-looking one.”

When the guy narrowed his eyes in apparent confusion, Dean congratulated himself on snuffing out the conversation before it had even started.

“I’m Cas. Do you go to KU too?”

“No.”

“What do you do?” Ah, there it was. The question from Sam’s friends that was guaranteed to elicit polite nods followed by quick exits.

“I’m a mechanic,” Dean said.

Sure enough, the guy nodded at him politely then turned away to order his beer. Dean glanced back at his brother who was leaning over so that the blonde standing on tiptoes could speak right into his ear. These kids were only four years younger than he was but sometimes it felt like he’d already lived an entire lifetime of his own. The difference in their situations left him polite but removed, like a parent sent along to chaperone. He and Sam had planned to go for burgers but, with his beer warming between his palms, Dean debated chugging it and finding a way to call it a night. No point in dragging Sam away from his friends.

A moment later, he felt a nudge against his arm. Cas, beer in hand, was leaning against the bar at Dean’s side. “Ever feel like you’re babysitting?”

Dean let out a genuine laugh. “All the damn time.” Cas smiled at him, his eyes lighting up with it. A group of women flocked to the bar, leaving Cas standing close enough that their shoulders bumped. He held out his glass, Dean clinked it with his own, and they both drank. Clearly this guy was pretty smart if the way he noticed Dean watching him lick the foam from his lips was any indication. He was taking the last sip of his drink when Cas leaned in, ostensibly to be heard over the bar noise. “You wanna get out of here?”

Dean turned to him, impressed. “You don’t waste any time.”

Cas raised an eyebrow in consideration. “I notice you aren’t telling me to fuck off.”

Chewing his lip, Dean nodded toward his brother. “Sam and I are supposed to go eat after.”

Cas drained his beer. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.” He set his glass down and was gone before Dean could say a word. For the next four and a half minutes Dean wrestled with what to do. He didn’t know this guy at all, but he wasn’t exactly a stranger since Sam knew him. Was it weird to mess around with somebody who was basically one of Sam’s teachers? How the hell did he look like such a straight-laced professor and then proposition Dean? It was that unexpected brazenness that finally had Dean making his way down the back hallway with a few seconds to spare. Only one of the two bathrooms showed that it was occupied and with a quick check that the hallway was empty, Dean rapped on the door. A moment later he was yanked inside. Cas locked the door behind him, then pushed Dean against the wall, shoving a thigh between his legs as he kissed him soundly.

Dean tugged the guy even closer and when they pulled apart Cas eyed Dean like he wanted to eat him alive. The look was so intense that Dean would have been more than happy to serve himself up on a silver platter. Diving back in, there was some cursory groping and shoving of hands under shirts, but it wasn’t long before pants were undone. Dean kissed along Cas’s jaw while gliding his hand into Cas’s open fly, running sure fingers along the hard cock that awaited him.

“A mechanic,” Cas breathed. “Jesus, I knew you’d be good with your hands.”

Smiling against his skin, Dean worked both of them free and stroked them together. Cas flipped his tie up over his shoulder to get it out of the way, and Dean wanted to laugh at such a sensible maneuver, but that derailed when Cas got both hands back under Dean’s t-shirt to tweak his nipples. There was no time to take it slow, no time for finesse or teasing, not when Dean could still hear the thumping beat of the music from the bar as well as voices shouting and laughing.

When footsteps echoed down the hallway, Dean fitted their mouths together to silence Cas’s groaning as best he cold. He jerked them fast and hard, focused only on panting breaths and sweat-slicked skin. When Cas wrapped his hand around Dean’s urging him even more quickly, Dean gasped and braced himself against the wall as they came in quick succession.

Afterwards, Dean tipped his head back, letting it clunk against the wall. “Holy shit.”

Cas stepped away to grab a couple of paper towels and they cleaned themselves off the best they could. Their hands had taken the brunt of it, but a little splattered up onto Dean’s stomach and his rucked up t-shirt. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Dean buttoned his flannel to hide the spot. He held his arms out to the side. “Good as new.”

They stared at each other for a minute and Dean wondered if they were going to kiss again. “So...thanks. That was fun.” Cas turned and gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you go first.”

Whatever moment Dean had thought was between them evaporated and he reached for the knob. “Yeah. Sure.”

No one seemed to have noticed his absence and Dean resumed his place, leaning loose-limbed against the bar, doing his best not to look for Cas. When he could resist no longer, he found him over by the dartboard deep in discussion with two men. Still feeling the prickle of Cas’s stubble on his neck, Dean was debating ordering them both another round but when Cas finally crossed the bar toward him, it was clear that he was leaving. As Cas pulled on a trench coat that completed his staid look, Dean found himself unconsciously smoothing a hand down his front to feel the sticky damp of his t-shirt against his skin. Cas moved around the group saying his goodbyes. When he got to Dean, he shook his hand firmly. “Very nice to have met you.”

Sam approached him soon after and they relocated to a burger place where it was quiet enough to talk. When their food arrived, Dean asked Sam who everyone was, trying not to let his face betray interest when Sam finally mentioned Cas’s name. He explained that Cas was their T.A. for Philosophy of Law and a super smart guy. Sam seemed impressed that he’d hung out with them for a bit.

“Well, nerds love other nerds,” Dean said, taking a large bite before he could say anything incriminating.

For the rest of the week, Dean tried to put the incident behind him. It shouldn’t have been hard; he’d had plenty of hookups. Nonetheless, something about the way it’d been equal parts unexpected and hot had left him unsettled enough that he found himself back in the same seat at the same bar the following Friday.

He wasn’t there twenty minutes before Cas appeared, easing onto the stool next to him. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt this time. “Waiting for Sam?”

“Nope.” Dean lifted the glass and took a long swallow, aware of Cas’s eyes on him.

Cas nodded, signaling the bartender before turning back to Dean with eyes full of mischief. “Waiting for me?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

That night they made it as far as the parking lot. Dean felt a rush of warmth when Cas made appreciative eyes at the Impala parked in the back corner. That warmth turned into scalding heat when Cas knelt in the footwell and blew him in the backseat. Dean was more than happy to reciprocate, but before he could Cas climbed up to straddle him, jerking himself off on Dean’s bare chest where he lay sprawled, still trying to catch his breath. Dean suggested going back in for another drink, but Cas politely declined. When Dean offered to drive him home, Cas explained that he lived close enough to walk. After that, it was no surprise that he didn’t ask for Dean’s number, merely shaking his hand again before he left. It was just sex _,_ Dean reminded himself. Take it or leave it. Or in Cas’s case, take it _then_ leave it.

On the third Friday, Cas approached him at the bar again. There was drinking and chatting and terrible innuendo and Dean wasn’t sure which amused him more: the big crinkly smiles Cas gave to his awful jokes or the fact that they were even bothering with this charade in the first place. Dean was antsy to leave, but he didn’t want to seem too eager so he waited until Cas asked if he was ready to go. This time, he invited Dean back to his place and they walked the few blocks there with Dean practically skipping in anticipation. Cas’s apartment was small and mostly furnished with books, but his bed was big and comfortable. Dean made sure to get his mouth on Cas’s dick first to avoid a repeat of the week before, and the glorious sounds that Cas made as he took him deep were better than he’d imagined.

Not that he’d spent time thinking about these things. Ok, maybe he’d spent a little time wondering how Cas’s cock would feel on his tongue. Maybe he’d devoted a few thoughts anticipating the salty-bitter taste of him. Since this was just sex, it made sense that he’d think about sex-related stuff. It was the other thoughts that had Dean slightly more concerned. Like when he found his mind lingering on the way Cas looked at him so intently, his eyes so blue that Dean sometimes lost his train of thought. Or the way he’d put his hand at the small of Dean’s back to steer him through the crowd as they left. Then there were the other, much more dangerous places his mind wandered. Like how Dean found himself smiling at the way Cas was unfailingly polite to the bartender or the way he ate his fries precisely two at a time—never more, never less.

Lying there, he pushed away these thoughts, instead focusing on how good the sex was. It was harder to get out of a warm bed than it was to move from the back seat to the front, but after a moment or two, he sat up and got himself dressed. In a t-shirt and boxers Cas walked him to the front door, shaking his hand like their transaction had gone perfectly.

The fourth Friday, Cas seemed a little preoccupied. While Dean knew it wasn’t his place to ask, he worked a bit harder to make Cas laugh but even so, the sparkle was missing from his eyes. Cas went through his drinks quickly, downing a couple back-to-back before asking Dean if he wanted to leave. There was an urgency to Cas that night, a fervor that Dean had yet to experience with him. For the first time, they both ended up completely naked and Cas pulled lube and a condom out of the bedside drawer. He had Dean up on all fours, pushing back onto Cas’s fingers before he finally rolled on the condom. Dean’s breath was punched out of him at the first vigorous thrust that set Cas’s unyielding pace. Dean braced himself with his hands to keep up, before finally dropping down to his forearms, moaning into the pillow. Cas fucked him hard, one hand holding his hip with bruising strength while the other gripped and tugged at his hair. Dean savored the heat that pooled in his groin at being held and used, and the thought of having bruises—something he could look at during the week like a fucked-up souvenir—had him achingly hard. Cas’s breathing was punctuated with grunts by the time he finally reached around for the embarrassingly small number of rough strokes it took to tip Dean over the edge. Soon after, Cas nearly growled, yanking a final time at Dean’s hair when he came. Afterwards, he rested his forehead on Dean’s back, hot breath rushing across sweaty skin.

As Cas dealt with the condom, Dean rolled onto his side to look at him. His scalp still tingled pleasantly and he passed a hand through his hair. Like every other muscle in his body, his tongue was apparently loosened as well. “Hey, uh, I have zero complaints because that was totally awesome but...is everything ok?”

Cas turned to him, alarm in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean—”

Dean waved him off. “It’s not a problem, but…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything like _I’d be happy to listen_ but hopefully Cas would know.

Cas fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “I had a stressful day. But I should do a better job at keeping these things separate.”

That made sense so Dean didn’t bother answering. Besides, he was warm and comfy and that orgasm had left him practically boneless. He didn’t realize he was dozing off until his whole body did that weird jerking thing. Cas’s hand was on his shoulder a second later to rouse him.

“Sorry.” It was Dean’s turn to apologize. He tossed back the covers and pushed himself up to sit, rubbing his eyes.

“Dean, it’s late, you should—”

“Yeah, lemme just get dressed.” He pulled on his clothes as quickly as he could. Cas stayed in the bed this time, sitting up with the covers gathered around his hips. Somehow he looked small there, almost hunched into himself.

Scooping up his boots in one hand, Dean stood by the side of the bed. “Ok, well.” He took an awkward step forward and held out his hand. “Thanks.” Maybe Cas held on to his hand for an extra second before Dean let himself out.

By the next Friday, Cas seemed like himself again. He smiled brightly at Dean when he found him in his now-regular seat at the bar. Dean grinned back, happy to see him. There was something so freeing about this arrangement, he reminded himself. Beer, a little talking and flirting, then sex. No worrying about what the other one wanted to do, no confusion about the goal of the night. And best of all, no obligations or expectations afterwards. Around the time they usually headed out, Dean was feeling nice and loose so he moved a little closer to Cas, bumping his shoulder. “Well?”

An unreadable look crossed Cas’s face and he chewed his lip for a moment. “Would it be all right if we hung out here this evening?” Dean waggled his eyebrows but Cas shook his head. “I mean...have something to eat, maybe play some darts.”

“Oh.” Dean tried not to let his surprise show. “Sure. Whatever.”

Cas ordered nachos and they relocated to a table near an open dartboard. Dean tried not to read too much into the changed plans but he could feel himself getting deeper into his own head. He focused on the dart game, beating Cas soundly, then worried maybe he shouldn’t have. Cas seemed off, darting his eyes to Dean’s face and away again. Dean tried to keep the conversation light, but everything he said felt wooden and false and the nachos started to sit heavily in his stomach. He tried another beer but instead of loosening him up, it made him morose and he excused him under the pretense of using the restroom.

Standing alone in the same space he’d first been with Cas, there was no denying the fact that Cas didn’t want to have sex with him. The only point left to ponder was what he’d done to change Cas’s mind. Maybe it was Dean being a goddamn freak who got off on Cas being so rough with him or maybe it was because he’d broken their unspoken agreement and asked about Cas’s life. His _real_ life. The one where he taught classes and wore nice clothes and spent time with the sort of people he could be seen with outside of a bar. Either way, Dean was being let down tonight with food and games like he was a kid at a birthday party. Passing a couple making out in the back hallway, he returned to the bar to find Cas in conversation with some people Dean didn’t know. Dean grabbed his jacket from their table and caught Cas’s eye before lifting a hand in farewell. Cas stared at him for a long moment before returning the gesture. _Not even a goddamn handshake_ , Dean thought bitterly on his way out the door.

*

Dean’s not completely sure why he showed up again this week, other than he isn’t the type to turn tail and hide. What better way to prove that none of this matters than to continue holding court on this same stool. If Cas doesn’t want to see him, then he can damn well find a new bar to frequent.

He turns his back on the small bubbling thought that maybe last week had been a fluke, that Cas had been having a bad day and that this week Cas will rush in the door, full of apologies and looking at him with that hungry gleam in his eye. As the hours pass, that bubble pops leaving Dean with the full weight of his own stupidity. It settles over him with such heaviness that he can’t bring himself to get up and leave.

It’s already last call when Cas arrives.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” he says, his face carefully composed.

Dean sets his empty glass down hard. “Well, one of us was.”

“I’m here now.”

A little unsteady, Dean gets to his feet. “Good for you. I’m heading out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a way to reach you.”

Dean hesitates. Maybe there’d been an emergency. Maybe he was judging too harshly. “Where were you?”

Cas’s gaze flickers to the floor for a moment. “I was on a date.”

Something cold takes shape in the center of Dean’s chest. “Must’ve gone great if you ended up here. But don’t you worry, you know I’m always available.” He reaches for Cas’s belt. “Is now good?”

Looking stricken, Cas grabs his wrist and moves his hand away. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Dean wants to yank his hand out of Cas’s grip but the feel of his fingertips on Dean’s skin is like fire, and he allows himself be pulled out the door. Outside, Cas lets go of him and they walk side by side in silence, the fresh air helping Dean to sober up.  

Inside Cas’s apartment, he asks Dean to sit down.  

Dean glares at him for a long moment before complying. “Ok, so talk.”

“I went on a date tonight—”

“Yeah, so you said.”

“I have no right to ask this of you but please hear me out. Then you can leave if you want.” Cas sits rigidly next to Dean on the couch.

Dean waves a hand at him. “Fine.”

“I went on a date tonight but I spent the entire time wishing I were with you.”

The cold in his chest thaws a little at that but not enough to stop the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “Wouldn’t put out?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Cas says, looking down and twisting his hands in his lap.

Dean sighs. “I’m getting an awful lot of mixed messages here, man. Last week you didn’t even want to be with me.”

At that, Cas’s eyes meet his. “Is that what you thought?”

“What else was there to think? I offered to leave with you and you turned me down.” The humiliation of it flushes through him, leaving his voice sharp with bitterness.

Cas’s shoulders slump. “I wanted to spend time with you. Doing...regular things. When you left, I assumed you weren’t interested in that.”

Dean blinks. “Let me get this straight. Last week was your attempt at a date?” Cas nods, looking forlorn. “Are you saying you didn’t fuck me because you want to _date_ me?”

Cas frowns. “Perhaps I should’ve been more clear about that.”

“Ya think?” Dean sags back against the couch cushion. “So, what happens now?”

“I’d like to kiss you.” Waiting first for Dean to nod, Cas reaches a hand to his face, gently cupping his jaw and kissing him softly.

Dean stays close enough to feel Cas’s breath. “You know we’re doing this ass backwards, right?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Cas moves closer. “We’re making it up as we go.” After another kiss, Cas lays his head down on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Dean rests his cheek on the top of his head for a moment, just breathing him in. “I’m sorry, too.” Cas says something too soft to hear and Dean kisses his forehead. “Hmm?”

“Will you stay?” Cas asks. Dean’s mind is whirring from the turn of events and the alcohol in his system dulls his response time. He hesitates long enough that Cas sits upright again and takes his hand. “Just to sleep. Nothing else.”

“I could do that.” The bright smile he gets in return is nearly blinding.

Despite his reassurance of keeping things G-rated, a moment later Cas is kneeling between Dean’s legs. Dean stares in surprise until he realizes Cas is untying his boots and easing them off.

“You don’t have to do that.” Dean feels his face burning.

“I know.” Cas leads Dean to the bedroom and, while it makes Dean self-conscious to be on the receiving end of such gentle attention, he stands still and lets Cas help him out of his clothes. Cas pulls back the covers for Dean and quickly gets undressed himself.

Dean has been kissed senseless by this man. He’s been grasped and manhandled, writhing under his hands and his mouth. There have been tender moments, too, when they were both sated and hazy, but those had been brief interludes before they parted. Tonight, propped up on one elbow, Cas lays a soothing hand on Dean’s chest, just over his heart.

“Go to sleep,” Cas whispers. He traces along Dean’s cheekbone and his forehead, petting his hair in a way that Dean would find amusing if it weren’t so goddamn relaxing. He tries to keep his eyes open as long as he can, even as he feels his body melting into Cas’s touch and the soft warmth of the bed. He’s almost asleep when he forces himself back awake, sitting up in a flurry of movement.

“Cas?”

Cas sits up as well. “Dean, what is it?”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I am. But if you aren’t--”

“No, I am,” Dean reassures him. “Can you just...can we shake on it?”

Cas reaches for his hand, shaking it firmly without letting go afterwards. “This is what I want. _You_ are what I want.”

Hands still clasped, they lie back down. With their fingers laced, Dean tugs his hand over to kiss Cas’s palm, then yawns against it. The last thing Dean remembers before he drifts off is the soft press of Cas’s lips as he kisses his fingertips one by one.

 


End file.
